


Lauriston Part Four

by WhenIFindLoveAgain



Series: Cymry Paganaith [18]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: M/M, Neo-Paganism, Pagan Festivals, Pagan Gods, Paganism, Spirits, Spiritual, Water, Welsh Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:55:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25588645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhenIFindLoveAgain/pseuds/WhenIFindLoveAgain
Summary: After the executions of two Catholic officials, their corpses dumped in his lake, Water Spirit Minghao doesn't know if he can continue his deep relationship with human being, Junhui
Relationships: Wen Jun Hui | Jun/Xu Ming Hao | The8
Series: Cymry Paganaith [18]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1691641
Kudos: 3





	Lauriston Part Four

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, quite a extensive note here: welcome to the culture of religion in the UK. This is genuinely what happens. This not a made-up event. There have been so many child sex abuse cases that have been lost due to corruption of the police, of the law officials, of QC's, and, of the Church. And I must state, every Church - Catholic Church, Baptist Church, Anglican Church, Church Of England, Evangelist Church, Lutheran Church, The Boy Scouts, Catholic controlled orphanages. It truly is...fucking disgusting. The scene I wrote in this book is based on a event that happened in the late 1930s in North Wales. Now, North Wales is deep, deep Pagan territory. Churches are set on fire for fun. The culture is absolutely horrific, bit, this is what happens when a Anglo-Saxon modified religion invades onto - specifically - Indigenous Cymry territory. For the reference of the true events - which is why it is EXPLICIT - the torture and the mutilation of the Priest and Dean done by the Pagan tribe in that area, is true.  
> You could say it's a very dark thing to write, to associate, but, this was always going to be part of the Lauriston Mini-Series, if you like. It's a naturalism work based on Indigenous Cymry religion and culture.  
> Either way, I hope you like it

The top half of Minghao's face appeared above the water. The Bardess dragged the bodies of two dead human beings into the water. Her followers, her children, her brothers, her sisters, her aunts, her uncles, her parents, all the native tribe she could ever belong too followed her down into the water with guns and knives and rope and rocks.

The police had failed to do their job. They had kept taking backhander money from the Church to ignore the allegations of child sex abuse and rape commited by the local Catholic Priest and the Dean.

And, in this Pagan land, been Christian was a unforgiveable sin, letting along been a Christian and sexually abusing a child. Minghao slipped back beneath the surface of the water as the Priest's corpse and the corpse of his Dean had small boulders tied down to their feet, and, were sunk down into the lake. Minghao swam over to the lifeless, mutilated beings, and dragged them down to the deepest, darkest parts of the lake, that, even in the occasional flood every century, light never touched with swaying waters and depths.

Minghao held the face of the Priest, still dressed in his robes, and gazed at him. His teeth had been ripped out one by one, and his eyes had been cut out. Runes were cut into his skin with knives, and, his hands had been cut off along with his neck. 

The Dean hadnt been so badly treated. They had just beaten him until he gave in to die.

Hate stirred up in Minghao.

Why did they have to do it? He had been alive for hundreds and hundreds of years, had seen the arrival of Arabian Muslim fisherman and their families from another part of the world on their native land amongst the Indigenous Cymry natives. The Muslims had never caused a problem. Kept to themselves. Didn't cause grief like this. The Pagans had never done this. And if the Pagans had found out that one their own had ruined a child this way, they would chop them up alive with an axe.

Minghao hoped that Junhui didn't come down today, not when the water still had traces of red in it, red that got into Minghao's skin and hair. 

Minghao prayed that Junhui didn't come to see him today.

But, Junhui was in love with him.

Catastrophically in love with him.

So he did come a few hours later.

"Hao!" Junhui skipped some slate cuts across the surface of the lake, sending down ripples and vibrations through the lake's territory, telling either Minghao or his sisters that he was here, and if Minghao wasn't about, could one of the girls go and fetch him. 

The minutes ticked by, but, Junhui had learned not to worry about it by now. He sat down on the shoreline, and waited. It was now early Autumn, and, the anicent forests around him were changing colour. The sky was overcast, but, it didn't make Junhui feel a depression. It made him feel warm. 

After half an hour, Junhui did start to wonder if Minghao had gone somewhere. He looked back up to the overcast sky. He wasn't quite sure, but, he thought Minghao could make rain, and, then, travel with it. He wasn't sure, though. He wasn't sure. 

"Junhui..."

Junhui looked around and saw one of the Druids. The man was nearly ninety years old. He was wearing simple slacks that his granddaughter had made for him, based on a 1930's pattern, and a loose, long-sleeved t-shirt. He had a close-shaven beard, more like thick stubble, and long hair that went past his hips, tied in a pony-tail at the bottom of his skull with a turqoise tie. 

"Prynhawn Da, Derwydd..." Junhui greeted them in Welsh language. The elderly Druid pressed his nose and forehead against Junhui's for a moment before patting Junhui's head.

"You're young man isn't around." Druid told him. "We had a little complication, earlier." 

"What's happened?" Junhui's brows furrowedly slightly.

"Badly behaved Priests." Druid responded simply. 

Junhui laughed. "Oh, I see." he grinned. "So the Church is going to get mysteriously flooded, then?"

The Druid smiled slightly. "Perhaps, lad." He patted Junhui's head again. "Do come back tomorrow. He'll be back. Come with me, the Acorn Trees are starting to sing..."

Druid put a hand at the small of Junhui's back, and walked him away from where, further up the shore, the backs of the tribes footprints and the drag-marks of the Catholic Priest and Dean's corpses were still marked into the sand.

Beneath the surface of the soft waves on the surface of the lake, Minghao pressed his face into his hands and cried. This was the first time he had ever turned Junhui away.

Junhui would leave him, now.

Human beings were like that.

All it took was one thing and they just left.

Walking into the forest with the Druid, Junhui looked nervously up to the sky which had turned black in only a matter of minutes. Druid frowned.

"Better get you inside, lad." Druid murmured. "I'm alright out in this, you aren't."

Druid took Junhui back to huge, old mansion of a home, built by the English but taken as payment by Welsh Pagan mercenries in the 18th century. Junhui stayed in the sitting room where Druid had put him, but, he listened out sharply as he heard the Druid encanting up to the Gods he wanted in the sky. Junhui looked down as the nose of the Druid's pet wolf nosed at his hip. Usually - as the Pagans said - Junhui smelt like Minghao. Smelt like lake-water, a natural purity. Today, he smelt like himself. Deoderant and sand and washing powder and his own blood and hormones and humors and genes. Junhui could tell that the wolf was wondering what was wrong, what had changed. Junhui distinctly heard the Druid say, "I haven't seen skies like this often; this feels like the one night I was in London...when the Luftwaffe came through..."

Junhui shifted as the wolf's head pressed insistently against him. He patted the wolf's head carefully, before, going to find the Druid. 

He stopped. 

The Druid was nowhere to be seen.

But Junhui could have sworn he had just heard Druid's voice.

Junhui slept that night on the Druid's sitting room floor, the wolf curled up against his back, keeping him warm along with the log fire that never seemed to burn out. Junhui dreamt about Minghao.

Junhui dreamt many things. Walking through the forests looking for Minghao, talking to him on the phone - but, how, Minghao didn't have one of those modern inventions - nearly collapsing of shock when his little brother asked him why eight thousand people at a native religious festival were saying that he was the first Chinese person in 800,000 years of recorded Indigenous Cymry Pagan history to marry into their "set-up". 

Junhui woke up starkly at just after six 'o' clock the next morning, with one, clear phrase ringing about in his head.

Nothing lasts forever. Knowing that, I still can't end it. But, This is a love that has spread all over my body. 

Junhui felt breathless.


End file.
